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by samtheboyking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human Lucifer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samtheboyking/pseuds/samtheboyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: domestic!Samifer with hot chocolate, a fireplace and couch <a href="http://samtheboyking.tumblr.com/post/134359151061/prompt-domesticsamifer-with-hot-chocolate-a">[x]</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

They hadn’t told Dean where they were going: not in entirety, at least.

Specifically, Sam had told Dean that they’d be gone for five days, that they weren’t going on a hunt, and that he could still contact him by cell if it was an emergency. Lucifer hadn’t told Dean anything, merely waited at the Bunker door with his feet shifting impatiently.

_“An emergency. Not if you’ve run out of Game of Thrones episodes. Not if you can’t find the ketchup.”_

_“Yeah, whatever. Don’t see why you gotta make it a big mystery.”_

Dean had made it quite clear that one, he was not happy about his brother and the devil running off on an impromptu road trip, and two, he knew  _exactly_ what they’d be doing. Sam let his brother have his assumptions. He couldn’t be bothered to contest whatever imagery Dean was coming up with, didn’t care that it was inaccurate, at best. All Sam cared about was the look of relief as Lucifer and he set out from the Bunker and got onto the road, Lucifer’s eyes pasted to the rapid changing scenery out the car window.

Rufus’s cabin was a much needed sanctuary. Both Sam and Lucifer were looking a little worse for wear these days. This was something they both needed, not much of a question when Sam had asked, “Do you wanna go-” with Lucifer responding, “ _Yes._ ”

Sam didn’t think Lucifer particularly cared where they ended up, but the cabin seemed to be a good choice: secluded, silent, peaceful.  _Alone_. The place needed some work, though there was almost a charm in having to shake out the blankets for dust and dirt and general staleness. It was a comfort to hear the floorboards creak, knowing Lucifer was right beside him, taking the space in and committing the details to memory, as he was prone to do now.

Sam started up the fire, gathered logs and arranged them atop the layers of ash from long ago, when the place had still been seeing regular visitors. “There should be some cocoa in the cabinets still,” Sam told Lucifer without looking away from where he was prodding at the logs, his hands already blackened. “Top left, I think.”

Sam could hear Lucifer’s feet shuffling along. Usually he was quiet in the Bunker, as undetectable as a skulking cat, though Sam had grown used to being caught off guard by a shadow at his side or a chest pressing to his back. Lucifer’s feet were different here, as were his hands, less precise as Sam could hear them rifling around in the leftover contents of Rufus’s kitchen, and his face, lines of irritation and stress that had built up over months less defined as Lucifer padded back out into the living room. “This?”

Sam looked up from the growing flames.  _Swiss Miss._ “Yeah. I don’t think we have marshmallows left though.” Sam’s eyes trailed over Lucifer: socks, sweatpants (his), hoodie (also his). “You can read the instructions on the packet though and get it started.”

It was one thing Sam had learned ever since the Bunker’s occupancy level had gained one graceless angel. Keep Lucifer busy, even with as mundane and trivial of tasks as making hot chocolate. Lucifer’s face almost read as relieved at the instruction, nodding once, eyes on the fire before turning back toward the kitchen.

Soon enough the chill was chased from the room. Sam dragged pillows from the other rooms to join the collection of blankets, couch now doubled in size. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as their Bunker bed, but it would be what they needed, the frost already expanding across the windowpanes as night approached. 

“The instructions said milk or water. I used milk.” Lucifer shifted from foot to foot, two steaming mugs held in his hands.

“That’s usually better.” Sam could see Lucifer’s shoulders relax. He took his mug and watched as Lucifer wrapped both hands around his mug, still having yet to take a sip.

Sam navigated them to the couch, the two of them awkwardly shifting pillows and blankets until enough room was made for them to take a seat at the center, sock clad feet and knees bumping together before they got situated. With the fire crackling in the background and giving off wafts of heat and the blankets dragged up over their shoulders it was plenty warm enough, and the hot chocolate warmed him from the inside as Sam drank.

Hesitantly Lucifer brought his lips to the cup, hardly tipping it. “It’s… good.” Sam could see Lucifer still mulling the thought over with his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Sam would take a guess that it was the warmth over the taste that Lucifer preferred, though he had no problem in bringing the mug back up, longer this time.

They sat sipping in silence like that, pressed together surrounded by blankets, fire going off to the side to cast an orange glow toward them. They hardly needed space around each other anymore. Sam was familiar with how Lucifer could mold himself to him, until their sides were pressed flush, mugs discarded to the floor in favor of Sam winding an arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. Lucifer’s head found the crook of Sam’s neck, the chilled tip of a nose pressing to Sam’s skin there, though he didn’t mind, was happy to transfer the heat.

“I know it’s not easy…” Sam started, trailing off and looking to the side, trying to gauge whether or not Lucifer was too weary to turn this around into an argument. Sam took the steady even breaths puffing out against his neck as a cue to go on, “it’ll take some time to get used to.” Being human. 

Sam was desperate to prove that it  _did_ get better, for the both of them. It was easier to believe it when they could sit here, limbs tangled, Lucifer close enough to feel the rise and fall of his chest. Without worry of what shitstorm was happening today, or what would be happening tomorrow. 

A place like this could be good, eventually. Small, their own. An idea was already forming in Sam’s mind, an inkling that could be dangerous if he let it get the better of him and flourish, like he  _promised_ himself he wouldn’t let happen. But it already felt like home, and Lucifer echoed the sentiment, mouth pushed up under Sam’s jaw to mumble the words, hushed.

“This is good, Sam.” 

And Sam knew he wasn’t lying as he took Lucifer’s hands in his own.

 


End file.
